Favorite Wife: Escape from Polygamy, by Susan Ray Schmidt

Honestly, how could I not read this book?

Memoirs can be tricky, not least because they are often written by people who don't do all that much writing. This one was a pleasant surprise, being very well-structured, and overall pretty well-written. Susan Schmidt does a particularly good job of capturing the emotional intensity of adolescence, as well as its moment-to-moment extremes and contradictions. All of which is a great reminder of why it's not such a good idea to choose your husband at age fifteen.

This is a memoir jam-packed with drama: fratricide, warring sister wives, international manhunts, child brides, wild parties; you name it. If it were a novel, you really wouldn't buy the story, but somehow as non-fiction it seems believable. Needless to say, I was riveted.

Susan Ray was raised as a member of a break-away Mormon sect in a Mexican colony in the 50's and 60's. Polygamy was considered a necessary practice for men who wanted to achieve the full rewards of heaven. At the story's opening, many men had plural wives, though most didn't have very many. One of the interesting things that happens during the decade the novel covers is that the men in the community get more and more caught up in courting and marrying young women. (You can watch Susan's own husband Verlan falling prey to the notion that the more young women he marries, the better off he'll be in the afterlife. Not to mention having a pretty good time during his earthly one.) This is what I liked so much about this book: her disillusionment with her religion and community seems to parallel the sect becoming more and more fundamentalist, and straying from its original mission.

I am no fan of religious fanaticism, especially when the women and children seem to suffer disproportionately. This book, however, portrays the church leaders as righteous men and women who are getting it wrong. The author doesn't describe them as blatantly selfish or egomaniacal (with the exception of a few bad seeds), but as true believers who are blind to the error of their ways. Which is sort of a refreshing take on the whole thing. At the same time, she is pretty unflinching in her opinion that the women and children in the community suffer mightily from the institutionalization of polygamy. Her husband ultimately fathered over fifty children, and had a total of ten wives (Susan was his sixth). He worked construction in the US while his wives and children lived in various towns and colonies in Mexico, and took extended breaks to do missionary work. His families made do on next to nothing, and rarely saw him.

The other thing that struck me about this book was the apparently unflagging energy of just about every person in it. Susan had five children by the time she was twenty-three, and lived in pretty primitive conditions. Yet she always seems to have had time for visiting friends and relatives, hosting get-togethers, making adobe bricks and building a house, stuff like that. The church elders supported many families while settling multiple towns, converting dozens of new members, writing treatises on their faith and spending endless time driving the hudreds of miles between their multiple homes. Made me tired just to read about it!

The one subject I would like to have heard more about is the fate of the young men of the colonies. Near the beginning of the book, an elder tells a teenage boy that the young women of the colony are for the older men; young men are expected to convert their first wives. Which might work for a while. The fate of young men in polygamist communities is generally pretty grim; it's not clear whether this one eventually adopted the practice of driving them out.

Several of Susan Schmidt's relatives have also written books about life with the Church of the Firstborn of the Fullness of Times. Which name in itself might give you pause... I would love to read them, but I doubt they will be as thoroughly entertaining as this one.

The Happiness Project, by Gretchen Rubin

Do you ever worry about not being happy enough? Gretchen Rubin wasn't especially unhappy, but she thought that maybe she could do better. So she made a lot of lists, and charts, and amassed a ton of books, and set about upping her happiness quotient.

I love that she was so task-oriented in tackling this project: maybe more people would experience greater happiness if they stopped thinking about it and just attacked the problem head-on! Super un-Buddhist, I know, but very American. I'm willing to bet that most of us don't have the kind of energy and single-minded focus that Ms. Rubin does, so it's nice that she's done a lot of the work already.

The book is divided into months; each month is devoted to a different area of life. January is all about finding more energy, since a year-long happiness project is sort of a marathon. Other months include improving her (already pretty great) marriage, becoming a better parent, learning new skills; the list goes on. Each month she sets herself a series of tasks to help accomplish her goals. You can see the straight-A law student in Gretchen; she's got axioms, a bibliography, theses, proofs, conclusions. She's even got an extremely comprehensive website devoted to the project, with a whole toolkit you can use to blaze your own trail to happiness. What this woman gets done before breakfast every day boggles the mind.

Here are a few of the things the author learned from her experiences that ring true to me - and I only had to spend a few days reading to glean them!

1. You like what you like, and it won't make you remotely happy to spend your time doing things you wish you liked.

2. Thinking about being happy leads to being... happy.

3. Acting happy makes life more bearable, even when it isn't actually enjoyable.

4. All that crap you tell your kids really is true: if you don't have anything nice to say, shut the hell up; you don't have to like it, you just have to do it without complaining; you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar (okay, no one really uses this old chestnut any more, but it sounds better than the way we currently express this idea).

Here is another thing I really liked about this book: The author is very happy to admit to her own shortcomings. This keeps the reader from feeling envious of her and her happiness. I mean, who wouldn't like to have an entire year to devote to being happy? It's hard not to feel a little jealous of a woman who seems to have it all, and then gets to devote her life to being happier. Although the project does, in her estimation, increase her levels of joy and fulfillment, she's not completely transformed into an incontestably amazing wife and mother with a perfect yoga body and unshakable inner peace. She still has bad days, and bad habits. She is happier, because she's concentrating on being happier, which kind of indicates that a modicum of effort can have a real and positive affect. Even if you have to work at a real job.

Finally, and most importantly to me, how does this woman manage to read so many books? I know it's part of her job, but still, the rate at which she plows through them is incredible, and enviable. My very own happiness project might easily be derailed by giving in to the desire to do nothing but sit around reading all day.

Visit The Happiness Project website for lots of ideas about bettering your life.

Half a Life, by Darin Strauss

I first heard Darin Strauss on This American Life, telling this story. I found it so intensely moving that I listened to it again in its entirety. In short: at the age of 18 Darin hit and killed a 16 year old girl, she on a bike, he in a car. No one blames him, it wasn't his fault. This, of course, hasn't stopped him from feeling guilty, and feeling guilty about feeling guilty, for half his life.

The accident itself was not so very huge - the car didn't suffer any damage past a cracked windshield, and none of its occupants were hurt. Despite the sad outcome, it's the kind of event that you'd read about and then pretty quickly forget. Unless, of course, you happen to be the one in the driver's seat. In which case it colors everything you do for years, maybe forever.

Strauss says in this book that had this episode never occurred, he may not have become a writer. Which is hard to imagine. I kept thinking that another, less introspective person might not have spent so very much time obsessing over his every reaction to the pivotal event in his life; he's not sad enough, he's selfishly sad, he's not demonstrative enough, he's faking it. This is probably naive of me. Probably the truth is really that not everyone in this situation would do such a good job of describing his feelings.
Somewhere in the midst of the story, I realized that this book is not a memoir of Darin Strauss' whole life, but more a very close look at the lens through which he's lived his life. He doesn't tell us about the many times he didn't think about Celine, because that's not the point of this story.

It's hard to imagine living with the weight of having accidentally taken some one's life. This small book serves as a reminder that life can change on a dime; a moment can stretch into eternity. I really recommend listening to Darin tell the story, here.

This Is Not the Story You Think It Is..., by Laura Munson

 

This book captivated me. It's so interesting to get inside some one else's head, and hear the details of their thoughts and feelings during an especially fraught and complicated time in their lives. And then to have it edited. Because honestly, although we'll put up with repetition and incomplete sentences and poor timing from our friends when they need us, it's really more interesting to have the clean, thoughtful version.

Laura Munson's husband of twenty years, father to their two children, tells her one day that he no longer loves her, and wants out of their marriage. She responds that she doesn't buy it. She determinedly gives him time and space to consider what he might be giving up, and refuses to react with anger or recriminations. She doesn't tell many people what they are going through over the course of a very long summer, partly because not many people have much patience for a guy who stays out all night and blows off holiday weekends with his kids.

I admire Laura Munson for her clarity of vision, and for the strength of her convictions. I'm inclined to agree with her assessment of her situation, although I don't think that I could have kept my anger and fear contained as she did all those months. This book is at its heart the story of how Munson deals with her own emotions. Her husband's crisis is an arena in which she can practice intentionality. She is constantly mindful of her actions, and refuses to live her life in reaction to events beyond her control. Impressive!

As a single mother, I was a little put off by the author's assertion that if her husband moved out, her children would automatically suffer from abandonment issues, and grow up to have dysfunctional relationships. Ideally, children live in big happy families in which everyone supports one another and nobody ever leaves. But strong, well-adjusted people can suffer greater trauma than divorce and go on to lead pretty happy lives, can even, I've heard, have long and happy relationships. And people who grow up with caring, happy, ever-married parents who stay together for life can end up with lots of relationship issues. Having a mother like Laura Munson probably leads to incredible self-awareness; her children are lucky.

I enjoyed the shared diary format of the book, which invites the reader to really share the experiences as they unfold. There are a lot of great truths in this story of the type that are explored in self-help books, but I for one am more likely to take these lessons to heart because they are told with such immediacy and passion. This woman is very clear about her own shortcomings; if she can do it, I can do it to, right?

In the end, I don't think Laura Munson and I would be likely to be friends in real life. I say this not to be snarky. In fact, I admire her more because of it. It's one thing to want to emulate the person you'd most like to spend time with, and to love her book. It's another to want to emulate someone you think you might find a little bit annoying, and to still love her book.

Raising Ourselves: A Gwich'in Coming of Age Story from the Yukon River, by Velma Wallis

Velma Wallis' mother was not planning to have children, because she knew what the life of an Alaskan mother looked like. She ended up having 14 of them, bowing out of motherhood well before they were old enough to do without her.

This is a heartbreaking story of a culture in transition. Fort Yukon in the 60's is probably like a lot of native towns in that era. Modernity has brought white bread and alcohol, and nothing a whole lot more useful. Velma loses her parents and most of her siblings to the bottle. At 13, she and her brother take over the household, caring for their 4 younger siblings while their mother battles alcoholism. At 15, she moves out to the family land (by herself) to live by trapping, as her ancestors did. I am in awe of what she went through by the time she hit voting age.

My overall impression is of a family united by love, but ravaged by addiction and poverty. The book could use some further editing, and is not what you'd call finely wrought. I was riveted, though, by this view into the life of an American girl not so far from my own age, but a world apart in terms of culture and opportunity. A good book for when you're feeling whiney - you will definitely get over yourself..

Bitter is the New Black, by Jen Lancaster

Okay, the full title is Bitter is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass, Or, Why You Should Never Carry A Prada Bag to the Unemployment Office, but that most decidedly does not fit into the space provided for post titles. Which is Jen Lancaster all over.

At the outset of this book, I couldn't find much to like about the author. She was all of the things she claims to be in the title, with the addition being of Republican sorority girl. Not exactly my cup of tea. By the end, however, she had discovered both humility and compassion, and had changed her attitude towards the benefits of conspicuous consumerism. All of which make her much more likable, but not intrinsically different. That is one of the things I love about this book; it's about realigning her attitudes and habits, not about changing who she is. Very refreshing when you've read too many books/seen too many movies that are described as "stories of redemption."

It's also good to remember that I do not have to either agree with the politics, or admire the lifestyle, of an author to enjoy her work.

The Kids Are All Right, by Diana Welch & Co.

I read this back in October, but never managed to post about it. It's an interesting family memoir, written by four adult siblings, in rotating chapters. Two of them are professional writers, the other two decidedly not. I liked that each of the four has a distinct voice; the two who are not writers have not had their prose cleaned up or polished, and thus sound genuine.

It's always fascinating to hear a group of people talk about common past events. Each person's account is different, colored by perspective, emotion and age. These kids had a complicated family, and ended up spending a fair amount of time away from one another. I get the feeling that in this book they are not only telling their family story, but learning about the portions of one another's childhoods they did not get to witness.

The story itself is another from the my-screwed-up-childhood genre. While their story is a lot less hair-raising than many I've read, the Welches had a pretty hard time of it. A reminder to get the custody worked out before you check out.

Tender at the Bone, by Ruth Reichl

I don't usually read non-fiction. I like a good story, and if I accidentally learn something along the way, so be it. I do like memoirs, though, particularly if they involve seriously dysfunctional families. One advantage, as far as I'm concerned, is that the story happened (more or less) the way it happened, and if I don't like the way it turned out I can't blame the author.

Now, I am not a foodie. I own only a handful of cookbooks, I don't watch the cooking channel, I buy Costco olive oil, and when I was married I was very happy to let my husband do all of the cooking. Which indicates to me that Ruth Reichl is a terrific writer, because I loved this book. That her entire childhood is told through the filter of food is clearly not a clever device; she actually remembers her whole life according to what was being served and by whom! There is certainly some dysfunction (does every good memoirist have a bi-polar mother?), but mostly there is just good storytelling. In fact, I found myself thinking that my own life would seem much more interesting if I could but find a unifying theme running through it.

After reading this book, I spent a long time trying to remember specific meals from my childhood. There are a few, but when it comes to culinary training, I mostly remember my sister and mother experimenting in the kitchen together while I snuck off to my pine-needle fort in the woods.

Expecting Adam: A True Story of Birth, Rebirth, and Everyday Magic, by Martha N. Beck

Let's hear it for everyone who did not go to Harvard! According to this book, it is a wretched place full of striving, uncaring people, which will turn you into a workaholic automaton. I wonder if Martha Beck, in her current enlightened state, would now find that Cambridge is full of self-reflective loving people looking for the same. It strikes me that she was not exactly inviting joy and empathy into her life while she was there. She did, however, learn to look past academic success to the greater joys of being human.



Where I heard about this book: Anne again!


What I thought of this book: Very interesting and a quick and compelling read. 4 stars.


What this book is about: An insanely busy PhD student and her even busier husband discover that she is pregnant with a Down syndrome baby. They both have a lot of paranormal experiences, which she chalks up to the unborn child attracting angels, positive energy, call it what you will. This book is about letting go of societal standards of success, and enjoying and appreciating life as it is. Ironically, I read this book when I was sick; I should have just stayed in bed and rested until I was healthy, but kept trying to return to work, which made me sicker. Which just goes to show the importance of the author's message - letting go of productivity-at-any-cost really is good for you. Alas, it can be hard to do. Martha Beck and her husband really struggle with this throughout the book.

Martha Beck is now a life coach and motivational writer. She has other books, most of which don't interest me all that much; they are very much in the self-help genre, which I generally avoid like the plague. This one, however, looks interesting - Leaving the Saints: How I Lost the Mormons and Found My Faith. I am a sucker for this kind of memoir, if well-written.

Loose Girl: A Memoir of Promiscuity, by Kerry Cohen

If you were the teenage girl who didn't get much attention from boys, this book will finally make you feel better about that. Otherwise, I wonder if there are any readers who won't recognize the painful yearning and stabbing self-doubt in this portrait of a girl trying to come to terms with her sexuality. Kerry Cohen describes these emotions in such a beautifully succinct manner - you don't have to be a loose girl yourself to recognize her motivation, although if you were/are you will be thrilled to finally find your experience described with such accuracy and understanding.


Where I heard about this book: Goodreads - someone else had it marked as to-read and it sounded great.


What I thought of this book: Fabulous. 5 stars.


What this book is about: The memoir of a girl who turns to promiscuity to get the attention she craves.

I love that this book is just over 200 pages, but satisfyingly spans an entire adolescence and young adulthood. I really like that the author avoided telling every excruciating detail of her life - the downfall of many an autobiography. One of my few complaints is that as Kerry grew up I kind of lost track of how old she was - did she meet her husband in her early twenties, or much later?

At first I was slightly annoyed at what I saw as glossing over the whole recovery issue; it seemed as though she just sort of got over it, which is rare with addictive/compulsive behavior. Upon further reflection, however, I realize that recovery is really boring to read about, and is in fact where many memoirs tend to bog down. So never mind.

I really haven't felt so personally touched by a memoir in years. Kerry Cohen also writes YA lit, which I'll bet is great. I like her website - see it here. And she lives in Portland! I'm very disappointed that I can't see her at Powell's this week.

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, by Jean-Dominique Bauby

This is one of my very favorite books. If I had my way this would be required reading for everyone, as lessons in both elegant use of language and grace under extreme circumstances.

I recently bought this for a friend, and as it's quite small I was able to read it again in just a few hours. I must have first read it soon after it came out, in 1997. In fact I have it firmly intertwined with memories of my first home in Portland, but as the book was not yet published when I lived there that must be yet another unintentional autobiographical falsification. Or hallucination? I do remember quite clearly being devastated upon learning that Bauby had died soon after the book was published.


Where I heard about this book: Hard to say, after all these years, but most likely NPR.

What I thought of this book: At the risk of being effusive, I think that it is worthy of all the stars in the firmament.

What this book is about: It is the memoir of a man who has suffered a stroke. He is completely intact mentally and emotionally, but is only able to communicate with the world by blinking one eye. He's got a lot to say, but must spell it out painstakingly letter by letter with the help of an assistant. Making him one of the great editors of all time.